Baby for the Bosshole

There’s a hole in my heart that’s growing bigger and more painful. I miss her. Her smiles—fake, professional, genuine, all of them. Her scent—the fresh body wash over the sweet, feminine aroma underneath. Her mouth—which can say the funniest things or kiss me until my whole body is burning.

No other woman ever touched me the way she has. No other woman made me long to hold her in my arms the way she did. When I think of Amy, I see a concrete vision of our future—us growing old together, holding hands and smiling as we gaze into each other’s eyes.

You’re in love with her, you moron.

And you drove her away out of pride.

Chapter Fifty

Amy

Once Marion receives my text about taking the offer, he moves quickly to have me fly out to Virginia to actually see the office and meet some of the people I’ll be working with.

The Wednesday flight is tediously long—five hours—but the airline bumps me up to first class. Although I’m not a particularly superstitious type, the upgrade feels like the universe saying, “Virginia is where you belong.”

Of course, it could also be Satan pulling me into the pits of hellfire. The devil probably doesn’t trick you into going to hell by making the trip difficult and unpleasant.

Be positive. It’s a new chapter in life.

True. Right. No need to be so morose about it already.

I spend the night in a Hyatt. It feels strange to have my phone stay quiet. It used to buzz constantly with notifications from Emmett regarding work or the nursery or things for our baby.

Did he get rid of the nursery? Maybe throw away the crib and blankets? I hope he donated them. Just because we aren’t going to use them, doesn’t mean somebody won’t.

Thinking about that gorgeous room sends a pang through me, but I shake it off. I can’t be with somebody just because of a pretty nursery.

Right now, I need to figure out how I’m going to raise this baby on my own. Emmett’s offer to hire an army of people to help raise the baby so I can still pursue my career isn’t likely to be on the table anymore.

So, let’s see… The Blaire Group’s salary is much higher than GrantEm’s. Arlington isn’t a cheap city, but it isn’t as expensive as L.A. If I’m careful, I can probably still pay off my loans, save money to buy Dad his retirement home in Florida and have money left over to hire a nanny to watch over the baby while I work. I should run some numbers, create an expense spreadsheet to double-check my thinking.

The next morning, Dad texts me. I respond without telling him about my life imploding in L.A. I hate to keep things from him, but I just don’t know how to tell him everything. I eat some dry cereal in the hotel lounge and go straight to the office. En route, I text Marion to let him know I’m on my way.

The Blaire Group is headquartered in a tall blue building that sparkles like a column of sapphire. The lobby is huge, with a pine tree in the center. The golden plaque underneath it states it’s a tree that the founder of the group planted in hopes that the firm would grow strong and stay true to its mission.

People in business casual scan IDs to get through turnstiles. The sight of a paper copy of the Washington Post on the security desk hits me hard—I’m really in Virginia. I’m leaving L.A.—and all that entails, including Emmett and Sasha—behind.

“Amy!”

I turn around and see Marion smiling and waving as he walks past the turnstiles.

“Hope you haven’t been waiting long,” he says, all friendly.

“No. I just got here.”

“Aces. Let’s get you up to the office.”

He helps me get a visitor’s pass, and we take the elevator to the twentieth floor. The Blaire Group office is already a beehive of activity. The space is minimalistic and contemporary, with lots of chrome and glass.

“We don’t have cubicles or an open-space design,” Marion explains. “For group work, we have the atrium and conference rooms, but otherwise, you get your own office. That way it’s easier to focus on your own work without people interrupting you.”

He pauses like he’s waiting for praise, so I smile as though being confined to one walled-off space is the most thrilling thing ever. “Super!”

“Right?” He grins.

A few people passing by say hello to Marion and give me a curious look. When he introduces me as a new colleague from L.A., something flickers over their faces. What’s with the odd reaction?

But the tour continues in this fashion, with everyone behaving the same way. If I didn’t know better, I might think the office sent out an internal memo yesterday telling everyone to act weird to prank the new hire. But private equity people are too busy for that sort of stuff.